My sister, Judy, lives near the Burlington Mall.
The Burlington Mall is one of the early large suburban malls in greater Boston. It's in the northern suburbs alongside the I-95 loop around the city. It's a nice mall as malls go. It's been a popular agora in the self-proclaimed Athens of America for as long as I remember.
This is not about the Burlington Mall. The mall shows up today because it is at the end of Mall Road.
As one can imagine, the access road to a heavily visited location is heavily traveled
I learned from my sister that Mall Road itself has become a venue. She tells me that almost daily now, the road is lined with protestors. On one side of the road are people protesting a nearby government facility. The other side is lined with people protesting the protestors: some days up to a thousand people all together -- although they are emphatically not together. "They scream back and forth at each other all day." says Sis, "it's crazy."
Her experience activates a business idea I've been percolating. I want to sell signs, bumper strips, and t-shirts that say, "I'm right. You're wrong." I think the moment is right. Of course, the people who sell signs, bumper strips, and t-shirts are already selling different merchandise to both sides of the highway, but my plan simplifies the inventory. The protestors on Mall Road aren't interested in engaging in a dialectic. Actual ideas are just noise.
I'm right. You're wrong.
Annoying to me is it's my job to apply empathic imagination toward my fellow humans. I have to move away from my reflex to be a snarky jerk walking down the middle of the road shouting, "I'm right. You're wrong." and put myself in the minds of my fellow citizens outside an unprepossessing shopping center in an otherwise peaceful suburb.
Ask a question.
What if the anger is an expression of a stage of grief?
I look at the faces in photos. I think if I saw them in their identity as shoppers walking in the mall, I'd see them as nice people as people go.
Where do we agree?
Being it's Boston, I think I could walk down the street with a box from Dunkins, and get an equal number from both sides to say, yes, to at least one of my offers. "Gotcha covered my friend. The bagels and english muffins are vegan."
In fact, I'm now reminded I was in Virginia Beach on the day of the U.S. Presidential election: Obama v. Romney. I went into a 7-11 that morning and they offered to pour your coffee in an Obama labelled cup or a Romney labelled cup.
It turned out the customers split on the cup choice, split differently on cream or sugar, but everyone wanted a morning coffee.
The work is in getting to a question that gets received as an invitation.
Tell me what you've lost?
I've lost Mall Road as a peaceful path to a meeting place.
Warm regards,
Francis Sopper